Page 17 of The Barbarian’s Claim (Not-So-Savage Barbarians #4)

Seventeen

EINAR

M atthew had finally managed to hit the tree with enough force for the dagger to catch, so I’d given him a break and taken him hunting with me.

When we returned, I set him to work on preparing the fowl while I continued to work on setting up the drying box for the bows.

I was talking him through how to cook it properly when Rath came to visit with his bondmate in tow.

Finn clutched a book against his chest, his expression a little anxious. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“What is it?”

Rath glanced at his bondmate and a soft smile overtook his face as he tucked the smaller man against his side. “Finn asked if he could meet with Matthew to work on his language. He doesn’t like that one of his students is struggling.”

Finn dropped his gaze, shame overtaking his face. “I should have paid more attention. I didn't realize…”

Unwilling to deal with overemotional clan mates, I waved him toward Matthew. “Discuss it with him.” Switching to the common tongue, I spoke to Matthew. “I will take care of the rest. Go sit with Finn and learn.”

I caught the uneasiness in Matthew’s expression, and I knew why he wished to avoid it, but now that he was staying with me, he needed to be able to communicate with the clan. I would not play translator forever.

Finn must have noticed the expression as well because he switched to the common tongue, his tone reassuring. “We’ll take our time. There’s no rush. Everyone learns at a different pace.”

Matthew flicked his gaze to me, unsure of himself. I jerked my chin at him. “Go. We will practice what you learned when you are through.”

That seemed to reassure him enough to head inside our tent for a lesson with Finn. It would be easier for him in there. He didn’t wish people to hear the tremble in his voice. The fewer people who overheard him, the better he would feel.

Rath, in no hurry to leave his bondmate, took a seat on the log Matthew usually sat on. He wasn’t as chatty as some clan mates, like Verus, so I put up with his presence, setting aside the axe I had been using to finish what Matthew had started with our meal.

“Orthorr says you two are bonded?” he queried lightly. There was no judgment in his tone, only curiosity, and when I looked at him, his expression was relaxed. Had he been one of the ones who sided with Orn, he would have put up more of a fuss about it.

“He needed protection,” was my gruff reply.

Rath’s expression darkened. “Yes, I remember the outburst at the bonding ceremony. Has he had any troubles since then?”

“We have been away,” I grumbled.

He accepted this with a nod, but added, “If he has any trouble while you are busy, you can tell him to come to me. Or Godr. He watches over Finn while I hunt.”

I shot him a suspicious look. He knew me well enough to read me and sighed, shaking his head as he explained his interest in protecting Matthew.

“When Finn first arrived, he was targeted by another tribute. She made life difficult for him, and it tore at me to see him so upset. Similar things happened with Verus’s bondmate.

I discussed it with Orthorr, and he agrees that too often lately, new members of the clan are treated poorly.

I want to avoid that happening with Matthew.

Being a tribute and new to the clan is hard enough. He should not suffer needlessly.”

I didn’t keep up with the gossip of the clan, so I hadn’t known so many had troubles upon arrival. It made me want to take Matthew away to protect him. He was sweet natured and innocent. If anyone made him unhappy, I would gut them.

Loud voices cut our conversation short, and we both turned to look toward the sound. I could hear jeers and teasing, but when I heard the response, I chose to ignore it. If there was one bondmate I didn’t need to worry about, it was Simon. He was capable of taking care of himself.

“You’re just jealous,” he shouted back, the sneer evident in his voice even though I couldn’t see him.

It wasn’t until he rounded the line of tents that I understood better why the clan was teasing him.

He clung to Feigrind’s back, his chin resting on Feigrind’s shoulder and his body lax.

He looked like a lazy prince being carried around by his lover, and the smirk on his face said he was fine with that.

Feigrind’s smile was indulgent, and he took the teasing in stride.

He was newly bonded and smitten. No amount of teasing would get him to react right now.

Irritation flashed through me when the couple came to join us.

I had grown accustomed to my clan avoiding me.

Why now was I being bombarded with visitors at every turn?

The only thing that had changed recently was Matthew’s arrival, and I knew it wasn’t him who was inviting the company. He preferred the quiet like I did.

“Why are you riding your bondmate like a stallion?” Rath asked Simon with a smirk.

“I did that this morning,” Simon grinned. His comment caused Feigrind to blush furiously. He wasn’t as open with his exploits as Simon was.

Simon looked over the area in front of my tent, a frown overtaking his face. “Where’s Matthew?”

Rath answered for me, sparing me from banal conversation. “He is having a language lesson with Finn. You know, those things you avoided like a sorvok bite.”

Simon rolled his eyes, wiggling to get down from Feigrind’s back. Once he was on his feet, he planted his fists on his hips and glared at Rath. “I didn't need lessons. I’m conversing with you just fine, aren’t I?”

“Was it not you who challenged someone to a blood duel without knowing the meaning of the word?” he countered.

Simon made a face. “That was one time! It’s not like blood duels came up often at the brothel. When was I supposed to have heard that word to learn it?”

My brows snapped together, and I looked up at him. “Brothel?”

My query made Simon frown back at me. “You didn’t know? I thought everyone in the clan knew by now. That asshole from that other clan basically screamed it for everyone to hear.”

I gave him a flat look. I didn’t listen to gossip, nor had I been around for someone else to scream it. I remembered Feiskedr calling Simon a whore, but I assumed he was just tossing insults like the coward he was. I didn’t know there was truth to the title.

Simon shrugged, unbothered. “I worked in a brothel all my life. The only reason I don’t anymore is because someone else who worked with me was jealous of my success and told the guards I insulted a prince. I was dragged off here against my will.”

Which was common for most tributes. It was why I hated the idea of tributes so much.

The original arrangement was created generations ago, when townsfolk were getting kidnapped by older clans to continue our lines.

To end the fear and turmoil, the clan leaders met with towns and set an agreement that one woman from each town would volunteer to join a clan so our numbers wouldn’t dwindle, and the townspeople would feel safe inside their walls.

It took no time at all for the word volunteer to be misused.

Women didn’t volunteer, they were compelled by the town leaders through bribes or infighting.

Some towns tried to make it more equal by introducing a raffle, but even with those, the women weren’t willing.

It made me sick to my stomach. It was only the fact that Orthorr and several other clan leaders treated the tributes like queens that appeased me.

They were frightened when they arrived, but none would be hurt in the clan’s care or forced in any way.

They were given time to assimilate, and once they were introduced, they could meet clan members as they pleased and make their choice on who they would stay with. Their lives were better here.

The same could not be said for all clans, but it came down to threats of war when suggestions were made to keep those clans who did not treat tributes kindly out of the arrangement.

The Fer’na were one such clan. They still pillaged smaller towns without much protection and were only allotted one tribute a year.

The flap of my tent fluttered, catching my attention, and Finn stepped out alone, a deep frown on his face. Rath stood immediately to go to him, cupping his bondmate’s cheek gently.

“What is it, kolrav?”

“I think he’s afraid of me,” he admitted softly. “He won’t speak, and he looked really upset when I encouraged him to try. I’m not sure how to help him.”

Simon sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ll need to come at it differently with Matthew. He doesn’t like to speak, and he shouldn’t be forced to if it upsets him. Maybe focus on teaching him to understand? Don’t make him repeat you.”

Finn chewed on his bottom lip, his expression confused. “I’m not sure how to do that… How do I know he understands me if he won’t speak?”

“He says plenty without words,” I growled, shoving to my feet. “If you cannot understand him, then that is your fault, not his.”

Finn looked hurt at my comment, but I had hoped for more when making this deal with Rath. Finn said he wanted to teach the tributes our language. No one forced him to do it. If he couldn’t handle Matthew’s shyness with his words, then he should not be a teacher.

Simon rolled his eyes, giving me a dirty look. “Don’t take it out on him. Not everyone is good at reading facial expressions.” Turning to Finn, he offered, “Why don’t I sit with you next time? I figured him out pretty well the last time we spoke. Maybe I can help.”

A sniffle from inside my tent caught my attention, and I walked away, letting them figure it out amongst themselves.

When I ducked my head inside my tent, I found Matthew hugging his knees in that corner of the tent he’d first hid in during the Fer’na attack.

His shoulders shook with suppressed sobs, his face hidden from me.

I moved without thinking, kneeling in front of him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Matthew?”

He hugged his knees tighter, the choked whimpers muffled as he tried to suppress them. I knew his condition was difficult for him, but I didn’t realize he would get so upset speaking with others. He spoke with me just fine. I’d thought one on one with Finn would make it easier on him. I was wrong.